


Alphabet Ficlets: C is for "Concert"

by Lysippe



Series: Alphabet Ficlets [2]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:25:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5264144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lysippe/pseuds/Lysippe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johanna never indulged in anything. Except Katniss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alphabet Ficlets: C is for "Concert"

**Author's Note:**

> This was a Valentine's Day fic, once upon a time. This is fluffier than I intended, but also less fluffy than my last two in this series. Because it’s V-Day, and because my Valentine was a bottle of apple wine (which I only got ¾ of the way through because it tasted pretty terrible), this one’s a little different. So the moral of tonight’s writing adventure is: if tequila produces porn, wine produces introspective weirdness. Now we all know.

Johanna rarely treated herself to anything.

She had long since grown accustomed to a life of neglect, of never having enough of what she wanted or needed. It was so ingrained in her being that even as a victor, while others had splurged on expensive clothing or alcohol or even just enough food to keep themselves well-fed, Johanna had always been frugal. 

It wasn’t conscious - she couldn’t give two shits about her money or saving it. But even so, Johanna took what she needed, and nothing more. She wore the same threadbare clothes until they were so destroyed as to be unwearable, ate the same pitiful amounts of food, and kept herself going as best she could on as little as possible.

She never indulged, and she never wanted to.

Except in Katniss.

Johanna was more than happy to indulge in everything Katniss had to offer - cuddling in bed late into the morning, needlessly long walks in the woods when there was work to be done, anything. But by far her favorite were the few times she had managed to catch her lover singing. 

Katniss, painfully self-conscious about everything, absolutely refused to sing for Johanna, ever. Anytime Johanna had asked her, Katniss would turn scarlet and come up with a hundred reasons not to - “I’m not that good,” “I don’t know what to sing,” “It’s embarrassing,” and any number of others. 

Katniss, it turned out, only sang in secret.

And so, whenever Johanna came home, she was as silent as she could be, opening the door gingerly and standing in silence in the doorway, trying to pick up the faint strands of her lover’s voice. More often than not, Katniss heard her anyway, though Johanna never explained nor admitted to her auditory voyeurism. 

But sometimes,  _sometimes_  Johanna would come home, and Katniss would be performing some innocent household chore - washing dishes or folding their laundry or something similarly inane - and Johanna could sneak in, never daring to get any closer than the wall behind the doorway, tucked away just outside of sight. 

And in those moments, in those few precious minutes before she was inevitably caught out when her lover’s siren song made her careless, Johanna indulged in the only concert she ever wanted to hear. 

While she may have resented being denied a front-row seat to the beauty that Katniss brought to their home when she thought she was alone, Johanna indulged nonetheless. 

And in those moments, Johanna never loved Katniss more.


End file.
